


a cunning plan

by the_other_lutece_sister



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Siblings, broangel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 11:40:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12058248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_other_lutece_sister/pseuds/the_other_lutece_sister
Summary: Helena and Tony hang out, and steal cakes.





	a cunning plan

“Just sayin’, Helena, Tony is a way cooler name than _Donnie._ I mean...” Tony cocked an eyebrow and took a swig of beer.

 

Helena chuckled as she raised little Donnie into the air, making a variety of faces to see which he liked best.

 

“But I did not even know you, _brat_ Tony, how could I name baby after you?” She blew a big fat raspberry at the baby in front of her, and grinned as his eyes grew even rounder and he laughed delightedly, gums exposed. She did it again and Donnie wriggled his legs in joy. She lowered her arms and bounced him on her knee. “Besides,” she added, face turning serious, “I wanted to...hmm...Alison and Donnie have been very kind. And I wanted to do something for them. Donnie is good man, and my babies will be good men too.”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony gave Arthur another push, sending his sack swinging in a gentle arc, then joined Helena on the floor. “Lucky that you got me an’ Felix around so they’ll know what _cool_ dudes look like.” He grinned, silver tooth flashing.

 

“Yes. Very cool.” She said, standing and depositing Donnie in his sack, murmuring a string of Ukrainian in soothing tones, then giving him a push so he swung in unison with his brother. Flopping back on the floor, she accepted the beer that Tony pointed at her, and they drank in companionable silence for a moment. It was broken by Tony sniffing exaggeratingly, pointing his nose in the direction of the house.

 

“Dude, what is that smell?” He shuffled closer to the open door. “Is Alison in baking mode? Maybe we should, ah, go inside and - “

 

Helena laughed, shoulders shaking.

 

“No. Is for bake sale at Gemma and Oscars school. We are not allowed to eat any.” She shook her head sadly. “So many little cakes.” Her face brightened up again. “Sestra Alison said that she will teach me how to make cake. I will make one for Sarah, and one for you, too.”

 

“Yeah, but,” Tony said in a determined voice, “That’s cake we don’t have _now_ , Helena. I think we should rethink this. She must take a break sometime, right? I’ll just sneak into the house and lurk, right, and then -”

 

Helena held up a hand in a dramatic gesture.

 

“I do not want to hear this,” she announced, “this...cake thievery plan.” Her mouth stretched out in a wide smile. “I will sit here. Maybe...cake will just...show up.”

 

Tony narrowed his eyes at her, fingers scratching at the scruff under his chin.

 

“No way, sister, I’m not taking Alison on alone.”

 

“Ah, but,” Helena teased, “I have the beer. No cake, no more beer.” She folded her arms and jerked her chin at the garage door. “Go. Now.”

 

Tony grumbled under his breath, drained the bottle in his hand, and was about to toss it in the recycling before he remembered the sack nappers, and quietly put it on the counter, then cracked his fingers.

 

“Alright. Operation Cake Drop is go!” he stage-whispered, and ran across the back yard, bent double, and slipping in through the back door. Helena crawled over to the window and stuck her head above the sill to keep watch.

 

After ten minutes, she was murmuring to the twins that their _dyadechko_ Tony must have been caught and was being shouted at by _titka_ Alison.

 

“Poor, poor Tony,” she sighed, in the tones of someone thinking about a dearly departed loved one. Then she brightened as a figure made a furtive exit from the house and dashed over to the garage, carrying a plate.

Tony burst in the door and threw himself on the floor, plate held aloft over his smirking face.

 

“Success!” he hissed triumphantly. Then he lowered the plate and placed it on the floor, Helena’s frizzy blonde head joining his scruffy brunette one as they gazed at their loot.  

 

“Brownies!” Helena whispered reverently, and clapped Tony on the shoulder. “ _Very_ good.” She waved a hand at the fridge in the corner. “Beer, is yours.”

 

The two of them sat on the floor and munched brownies, with the babies swinging above them, and watched the sunlight as it moved slowly down the back of the house.


End file.
